


A Gift of My Bared Throat

by unsettled



Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-20
Updated: 2010-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 19:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, Coward gives himself over first, asks for it before Blackwood can bring himself to - but this does not mean Coward is less than him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gift of My Bared Throat

He has seen Coward before; has noted the gleam of his eyes, the fervor of his speech. The sly, smug anticipation lurking in the barely upturned corners of his mouth.

Interesting, to say the least.

He has noted the way Coward stands, the sparse, controlled elegance of his movements. The flawless line of his back as he curves in his spine and presents himself. The long, striped bones of his hands, near to gleaming sharply under the skin, and Blackwood yearns to see them made into anatomical studies, skin and muscle peeled back to reveal those bones, reveal them white and perfect and essential.

And yes. Yes, Coward leans into him first, tilts his head up like he's asking for something, widens his eyes and looks ... he can never look helpless, Coward, but he can certainty look appealing.

Yes, Coward gives himself over first, asks for it before Blackwood can bring himself to - but this does not mean Coward is less than him.

If anything, Coward is the greater, Coward is the one who holds Blackwood's throat and squeezes, whose eyes glint with an edge that cuts through every defense Blackwood has, Coward the one who turns to Blackwood and asks for more and harder and sharper and _more, Henry, make me hurt, make me bleed, make me scream for you to stop_ ; asks before Blackwood ever has to push for it.

Coward is a gem, a stone polished and faceted and blinding with internal fire, the contents under such pressure, such heat that is a brand behind those eyes, is the sound of a mouth opened in a scream so intense there is nothing but silence, lurking under Coward's every word. He does not crack, he does not shatter; he merely reforms, polished and catching the eye, one of a kind.

Flawless.


End file.
